Rest, My Love, But Never Die
by Vergalicious
Summary: [A new romance heavily inspired by the Titanic motion picture movie and soundtrack] Richelle is almost certain she wants to be wed to Cain Atter, but can one young officer change her mind?[Rated M for mature situations and themes]
1. Titanic Abroad

Chapter One

"Tell me you're lying," Richelle blurted as she tried to calm her shaking hands. "You... you..."

"I want to marry you, Richelle. Will you do me the honor of becoming Richelle Bethany Atter?"

Richelle covered her fine lips with one white-gloved hand to surpress her gasp. She stared at Cain Atter and wondered if this is what she wanted.

Marrying Cain would mean a life with money, safety, a home, a future and success.

Sure, that was what any woman wanted. But did she _love_ him? Love was such a strong word, such a strong element that, if taken forgranted, could cause tremendous pain.

"Cain... are you serious?" Richelle blurted.

She couldn't see herself waking up every morning with Cain beside her. Cain, with his slicked-back blond hair and greedy-like hazel eyes.

She couldn't see her genes and Cain's genes mixing to create their own children.

It just didn't seem right.

Smoothing her gloved hand over her strait auburn hair, Richelle fixed her emerald eyes on the cab driver's seat ahead of her.

"Darling...? You _will_ marry me, won't you? This is what you wanted, right?" The note of regret in Cain's voice made Richelle jump.

"Of course I'll marry you!" Richelle said, leaning over to kiss him. Cain tilted his head back and tsked his tongue.

"Nah-ah, Richelle, not now. Look," His arm extended and his finger pointed to something.

Richelle looked to where he pointed and realized they were at the docks. Richelle squinted. Were they? It _seemed_ like a dock, accept for that looming building--

Wait. That's not a building.

"That's the Titanic?" Richelle blurted, a blush heating her cheeks at her own stupidity. "My God. The sheer size is enough to blow someone's mind. I wonder what she looks like on the inside," She turned to Cain and smiled.

"I love you, Richelle." He said, taking her hand in his. Richelle swallowed, nodded and put on a forced smile, but didn't agree.

Or disagree.

"_My_ Richelle, now. We'll be together," He leaned in an planted his lips on Richelle's cheek, "forever."

"Of course, Cain." Richelle replied as the cab they rode in slowed and finally stopped. She wiggled free of Cain's grip and left the stuffy cab.

Outside, the smell of the ocean and fresh paint, the view of gulls flying over the Titanic, the feel of the ocean breeze against Richelle's face, made her smile.

Then, she frowned as she remembered her past, and her future.

Born and raised in England, Richelle had made herself quite at home in her small islander country. Her parents died at early ages and, at age nine, she lived with her Aunt. Aunt Patricia.

One year ago, Aunt Patricia left to New York and promised to send a tellegram to Richelle when she could come and join her, as well as the neccisary money to get there.

What Richelle didn't plan was, three months before her departure on the Titanic, to meet Cain Atter.

They grew close, but not that close. They've barely kissed, never made love and hardly discussed a future together.

After Cain implied he was also leaving to New York, too, they decided to plan a trip together.

Now they were engaged.

And Richelle was afraid she would realize Cain wasn't what he seemed in the past months.

"Darling, are you alright?" Cain's voice asked. Richelle turned and realized he was watching her from across the roof of the cab.

"I'm a little shaken up from the engagement," Richelle said with a forced laugh, "But undoubtedly my answer will never change."

Cain smiled and waved to the cab driver. "Get our stuff out," He ordered, and the dark-skinned man did so without arguing.

"Do you still want to do it?" Richelle asked in a quiet voice.

"Do what?" Cain replied with a puzzled expression. "Are you having second thoughts on your answer already? I though you said your answer would never change--"

"No!" Richelle frowned at her own shout, "I just... We barely know each other--"

"Darling," Cain said as he approached her. He held her hand and smiled, "True love does not take time into factor. Ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?"

"Yes. Shakespearian works."

"They met and planned their wedding all in one night," He said with a satisfied smile.

"But that was a book, written by a crazy man."

"Do you want to get married or not?"

_No!_ Her mind shouted as Richelle pulled her hand away gently. Cain let a breath escape his lips as he leaned forward, placed his hand on the small of her back and let his lips cascade onto hers.

It felt awkward, forced and not natural. Richelle didn't kiss back. She just lay limp in his arms.

If Cain suspected she didn't enjoy that kiss, he didn't say anything as he pulled away and smiled broodly.

"Your lips are so luscious and delicious to kiss. I'm a lucky man to have them," Cain said, nodding his head politley.

"Thank you, Darling," Richelle said, then side-stepped away from Cain to reach into the cab and pull out her hat.

Wearing an elegant black dress that hugged her curves, Richelle put on its matching hat that had one white feather sticking out from the top.

"You look heavenly," Cain sighed, suddenly beside her.

"Thank you," Richelle said again, turning to face her future husband.

Cain raised his eyebrows suggestively as he stepped closer to Richelle, straddling her hips with his hands. He leaned in so his face was under the shade of her hat and whispered, "Maybe later we could... meet, in our bedroom?"

Richelle only gave a slight curt of her head before turning to the cab driver and taking her two bags.

"You don't need to carry those, Darling," Cain shouted after her as he picked up his own. "I can carry them. Or get Harold to--"

"I'm fine," Richelle said in the sweetest tone she could muster. She walked elegantly to the boarding docks of the Titanic and entered into her passageway.

She thought Cain was right behind her, so when someone tugged at her suitcase, Richelle jerked it away from the person and turned around to scold him.

It wasn't Cain.

A uniformed man with glossing, disheveled black hair and cunning azure eyes stared at her with a stiff grace of a young man.

He could only be in his early twenties, perhaps nineteen or so, Richelle guessed as she smiled politley. Calculating quickly, she realized that he must be the same age as herself.

Cain was in his thirties.

"Thank you, but I have my bags," She said, nodding her head. The man nodded, took off his hat and swiped a hand over his hair.

Loose pieces of hair fell into his eyes as he studied Cain, who was laboring up the ramp.

"He's with you?" The man asked. Richelle looked at Cain and nodded.

"Fiance'."

"I pity you," He said with a slight smirk tugging at his lips. Richelle dropped her bags and stared at the man.

"Who do you think you are?" She demanded.

The officer turned, obviously surprised at her outburst, and smiled slightly. He pointed to his nametag and said, "Jacob McCarthy."

"No, you idiot, who do you think you are talking about my fiance' like that?" Richelle asked as she perched her hands on her hips.

"I just meant you seem offly young, he seems offly old, I pity you for-- forget it. Enjoy your stay on the Titanic."

"I will, as long as long as you stay clear of my path, and I of your's." Richelle huffed, then picked her bags up and scurried to her room, not caring whether or not Cain was behind her.


	2. Meeting en Deck

Chapter 2

The wind played on the waves as the sun's reflection danced into the abyss. Just like a wildflower, the light blossomed into the cool Atlantic water before retracting in a wave and restarting all over again.

Richelle couldn't concentrate. She wanted to get married, or course she did. Aunt Patricia said she was at the "marrying age", and if she didn't get married soon men would think there was something wrong with her.

Aunt Patricia said she had to get married, to carry on the Clarke genes. Richelle knew for a fact Aunt Patricia only said that to make her feel like marrying held some importance, but it only made her feel trapped.

If she married Cain, she would have a lifetime of security and safety and would be promised anything her heart desired. If she didn't, she would be living on the "edge", she would eventually have to move out of Aunt Patricia's estate, find a job and marry someone less in class then herself.

Like that mattered, anyway.

Richelle was a hopeless romantic. She believed in all that "love conquers anything" and such, and she believed that there's someone for everyone, and she believed that forceful marriage was wrong, and she believed that marrying someone you didn't love was wrong, but she did _not_ believe in love at first sight. Though she undoubtedly believed the same as Cain; time is not a factor in love.

Did that count for age, too, then? Richelle thumbed her fingers against the railing as she stared into the water.

Richelle should follow her heart, she knew that.

But what, exactly, was her heart trying to say? Richelle couldn't figure it out. Though she would get so many things from marrying Cain, her heart disagreed strongly. She would just sit there and exsist, not contributing anything.

Right now, though, her heart was at a stand still. She wasn't sure if she should change her mind before things got to personnal between Cain and herself. Or, should she follow along?

Sighing, Richelle dug her nail into the wood of the rail and peered over the edge once more.

She carved an "R" into the rail so that the future passengers of the Titanic would always know there once was an "R" onboard.

She supposed it was for a memory. This "R" was one of the last things her free self would leave behind. Once she got to New York, she would be wed and she would have no say in anything anymore.

Giving the rail one final pat, Richelle spun around in time to crash into someone else. She felt her ankle twist undesirably and her hand fling up in reflex, smacking the other person in the face.

"I am so, so sorry--" Richelle paused as she took a step back and stared at the person she had been fortunate enough to crash into.

"You!" She hollered, pointing a finger at the man. It could only be uniformed Jacob McCarthy, strolling along the deck.

"Yes?" Jacob replied slowly, watching Richelle's face for a sign to confirm she was crazy.

"I thought I told you to stay away from me!" Richelle retorted, stepping back and leaning against the rail.

"Sorry, I just didn't recognize Ms. Bossy hovering over the railing. You look different," He paused and eyed Richelle over, "Your hair!"

"M-my, _what_?"

"Hair. That straggy thing on your head that's kind of copper-ish. You had it tied up when we last encountered. Now it's loose and I didn't recogize you."

"I thought you'd be smart enough to recognize my face," Richelle snapped as she took a few sauntering steps away.

"Alright then. Nice talking to you." Jacob called after her. Richelle stopped and turned, squinting back over her shoulder.

Dawn had come almost swiftly, and now the orange rays of the sun were glowering off of Jacob's features in a calm, soothing notion.

"Mr. McCarthy, if you are a, a uh--, employee on this ship, why are you sauntering about? Don't you have work to attend to?" Richelle asked in a flury of words.

"I'm on my break," Jacob said, settling back on the heel of his foot as he stared at Richelle.

"And another thing: I thought crewmen were suppose to be curtios to passengers? So far you've been rather rude."

"Well look how you're treating me!" Jacob said with a laugh.

"I was only rude to you because you insulted my fiance'!" Richelle countered back as she settled once more against the rail of the deck.

"I wasn't _rude_ to him, Ms., I was only saying I pitied you because you were marrying a guy two times your age! I was _pitying you_, not _insulting_ you."

"You still have to apologize." Richelle said with a nod of her head. Jacob looked taken back for a moment before he smiled sinisterly.

"As you wish, ma'am. I am terribly sorry. The crew of the Titanic as well as _the_ Captain Smith apologizes for my rudeness to your future husband. Please take it upon yourself to have free dinners for the rest of the voyage." Jacob smiled and gave a small bow as Richelle laughed.

"Though I dispise you so much, you really are...," Richelle stopped and frowned, peering over Jacob's shoulder.

Jacob turned to look at a tall man standing behind him. He had broad shoulders and short, black hair. His eyes were brown, not azure like Jacob's, and he had stubtles on his chin.

"Father," Jacob said, stiffening up. Richelle noticed how his voice turned from strong, mannly and sure to innocent, small and weak.

"Jacob McCarthy, you were suppose to report into my office several minutes ago. Do I need to repeat, in front of this fine young lady, what I said previously? If you want to make it in the world, you need to learn how to be flexable and how to make your schedule around work, not the other way around."

"Yessir." Jacob said quietly.

"And how many times do I have to tell you that you cannot befriend the passengers? This _will_ get you into trouble, and possibly me. Do you want to get fired?"

"No, father, see--"

"Mr. McCarthy, I apologize for anything I may have caused," Richelle said, standing in front of Jacob, "but it was my fault, really. I asked Young Mr. McCarthy to, uh, sh-show me around the deck and all the mechanisms on it."

"Jacob?" The man asked, his voice softening just a little.

Richelle would have given Jacob McCarthy a slap if he didn't play along, but he did.

"All true, sir."

"Well, good job then, Son." The man smiled, turned to Richelle and held out his hand. "Arthur McCarthy, at your service."

"Richelle Bethany Clarke, or, soon to be Atter." Richelle replied, stopping just short of a snarl.

Arthur laughed a bit, stealing a glance at Jacob who just shrugged.

"Not happy about marriage?" Arthur asked with a wink. Richelle just smiled politley and watched Arthur walk away.

She was surprised he didn't drag Jacob along by the ear.

"Richelle." Jacob said slowly, letting each letter slide from his mouth elegantly.

"Yes?"

"That's your real name?" He asked. Richelle nodded slowly.

"Yes, it is. Why do you care?" Richelle asked coldly. It was nearly dark, and all she could see was Jacob's silhouette in the swallowing abyss.

"Ouch. And just when I thought we were past the insulting stage of our relationship."

"What relationship?" Richelle hissed, in a slightly joking manner, though. Jacob shifted and stepped away.

"I better get back to work." He said. Richelle nodded slowly, and was about to relax when he turned around again.

"Thanks for the... save. If you aren't to busy tomorrow night, I'd like to make it up to you. Bring your ass and your fiance's to the captain's table for dinner."

"Alright." Richelle smiled, surpressing a laugh.

"Great."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cain's hand rested ontop of Richelle's as they both stared into the starry ocean. It would've been romantic, Richelle thought, if it had been anyone standing beside her accept Cain. Anyone holding her hand accept Cain.

"It's a beautiful night," Cain said slowly, tightening his grip around Richelle's fine hand.

"Yes, it is..." Richelle's voice trailed off. Since their arrival on the ship, this had been the only alone time the two of them got. Though, prior, Richelle felt just a little confortable around him, now she felt something depressing, wrong and funky growing in the pit of her stomach.

She realized she wanted to pull away from Cain's grasp, run and never stop. She wanted to jump over the rail, hide or anything to escape Cain. She didn't know exactly why, though. Something in her was trying to tell her something.

"Cain, this afternoon I met a young man," Richelle began. She glanced up at Cain and saw him staring down at her with scrutiny.

Did he honestly believe Richelle would cheat on him?

"He was an officer onboard and, after a little chat with hisself and his father, Arthur McCarthy, that's his dad's name --oh, his name's Jacob-- they've invited us to dine with the captain."

"Dine with the captain? My word! That must've been a mighty fine chat you had," Cain said, his eyes narrowing just a little.

"Oh, Darling, don't be silly. I wouldn't do anything behind your back. My heart is yours and yours only, I would never see another man, ever..." Richelle stopped herself. She was rambling.

And she only rambled when she lied. Her heart did not belong to him, and she would see another man if the right one came along. She would not, however, see another man she didn't love just to get away from Cain.

"This should be interesting."

"Oh yes, this is Captain Smith's last journey and I'm so interested in asking him questions. The Titanic's first voyage is his last! Isn't that interesting?" Richelle stopped again and faced Cain.

His eyes were fixed on her lips, and his hand was crawling up her arm like a mice would scurry down an unrecognizable tunnel.

"Richelle, why don't you love me?" Richelle was taken back.

"I, I do!" She protested, narrowing her eyes on the wedding ring on her hand. She didn't. And she didn't deserve his ring, or his affection.

"Richelle..." He whispered in her ear. Richelle only had time to cock her head to one side at his husky breath before his lips collided ontop of hers.

She let out squeals of protest, then quieted down when Cain gripped her arm so tight it might leave a bruise. She didn't dare kiss back.

Trying to shift out of his grip, Richelle realized she was backing against the rail of the stern. She needed him to stop! As her back collided with the rail, Cain kept their lips connected. His hand slithered down her arm in such a grotesque way, Richelle finally managed to pull away.

"Stop it, Cain!" She shouted, but he didn't hear her.

Or he didn't care.

His lips came back upon hers and Richelle was now shoving at his chest, while mumbling against his lips about stopping. He began biting at her bottom lip, trying to be seductive, as Richelle stopped fighting.

"Ahem." It was only a quiet interuption, perhaps unheard if there wasn't a shadowy figure watching them in the darkness. Now there were only three on deck, and Richelle was beginning to relax.

Cain pulled away and whiped a hand across his mouth, hiding his smile.

"Yes?" He asked, standing upright while putting an arm around Richelle's waist. "I believe you interupted us."

"_You_. I interupted _you_, because from where I stood, it sounded like Ms. Clarke wanted you to stop but you kept going." The voice could not be mistaken anymore. It was Jacob.

"Jacob!" Richelle breathed, slinking away from Cain's grip to stand between the two gentlemen.

"Cain, this is Jacob McCarthy, the man I was telling you about before?" With Cain's confused look, Richelle closed her eyes, "The one we're going to eat dinner with?"

"Oh. Oh! Of course!" Cain smiled fakely.

"And, Jacob, this is--"

"You fiance', right? How d'you do?" Jacob finished, reaching his hand out to shake Cain's. Cain did, but with a look of dislike plastered all over his face.

Jacob must've noticed, because after one jerk of Cain's hand he let go and stepped back.

When Cain lowered his gaze, Richelle wondered where he was looking that made him so oubviously envious.

Then she realized she had grabbed onto the cuff of Jacob's shirt. It was also then that Richelle realized Jacob was out of uniform. He wore a white dress shirt that buttoned down the front, but the cuffs were rolled back to his elbow. His pants, however, were still in uniform. They were plain, navy blue pants.

Richelle let go immediatly, wondering why he never said anything, or gave a hint of what she had done subconsciously.

"Darling, shall we walk inside and go to... bed?" Cain asked, obviously trying to hint at something.

"No, it's alright. I'll stay out and enjoy the sky."

"I'll give you a massage before we, _retire_, how's that?" Cain smiled and now Richelle knew what he wanted.

But he wasn't going to get it.

"No, you go ahead." Richelle assured, waving her hand in his direction.

"You'll get cold!" Cain protested, gesturing toward Richelle's outfit. She wore on a pale blue dress with several light layers of fine material. There was a dark blue ribbon that tied around her waist, just under her breasts, and fell into the mesh of skirts in the back. There were only two light, billowing sleeves that reached mid forearm, and she must've indeed looking cold.

And she was, but she wasn't going inside. Not after Cain made such a bid deal about sleeping together that night.

"No, Cain, I'm _fine_," Richelle snapped, leaning against the rail.

"Don't worry, Mr. Atter, I'll keep your fiance' warm." Jacob smirked sugestively toward Richelle, in a joking manner, which made Cain send him a dirty look.

"I'm sure you will." Cain snapped before walking inside.

Richelle let out a breath and turned to face the ocean behind her. Her copper-brown, strait hair was blowing back, away from her emerald green eyes as she studied the star-reflected waves.

"You really don't want to get married, do you?" Jacob asked as he leaned against the railing beside her. His black hair blew back from two lively, full-of-life azure eyes.

Richelle finally studied his face now that his bangs wasn't covering it. He had a finely shaped, masculin nose and soft, small lips. His eyes were set rightfully, not to close and not to far, and seemed to be the perfect shape, except that they tilted upwards toward the end, giving a hint of some far-off asian ancestory. But you could barely tell, anyway.

He had a medium sized neck with two vampire bite freckles on the left side, as well as a dark freckle above his upper lip. He was thin with just a hint of masculinity in his posture, and he was more legs then torso.

"No, not really..." Richelle's voice trailed off as she turned away from Jacob. "He's nice, but he's so controlling and protective. With that grotesque kiss back there, can you believe it? I've only known him for a few months and all of a sudden we're being wed."

"That's how it usually is," Jacob replied, glancing at Richelle for a second. "Some don't even meet there fiance' until their wedding day."

"You have to swear you won't breathe a word of this to anyone," Richelle said, turning to face Jacob. Jacob turned as well, some of his bangs falling in his eyes.

"'Course."

"I don't want to get married. It may seem.. abnormal, for a girl to think this way, but my heart is true. I don't believe in arranged marriage. It's either love or it isn't, it's as simple as that." Richelle smiled to herself, "And I do not want to get married to a man I don't love."

"And you're telling me this, why?"

"I don't know. Perhaps because you're the only one on this ship who won't be interfering with my life. I guess you're the only one I can confide in at the moment." Richelle smiled and watched Jacob turn so his back leaned against the rail.

"That's simple enough. And that's smart. Most don't have a choice about love. Most don't know what love feels like..."

"Do you, Jacob?" Richelle asked. Jacob tilted his head, biting his lip, before he finally said, "no, but I've seen enough movies to know what's it's all about."

"That's nice. Really, it is," Richelle said with a laugh. She smiled up to the sky, gripping onto the railing tightly, and slipped one of her feet out of its shoe, resting it on the lowest bar of the rail. She closed her eyes, lifted up her dress to show off her ankle and sighed. "You don't know how good this feels," She breathed.

Jacob laughed and shook his head. "Unfortunatly, I've never worn heels."

"There's a first time for everything, Jacob." Richelle laughed as she took her other foot out of its shoe and put it on the rail, as well.

Now she stood taller then Jacob, staring off into the ocean with her hair blowing back and bare feet clinging onto a ship's railing.

Jacob, who was a full forhead taller then Richelle, now stared up at her with a small smile.

"Scared about dinner tomorrow?" He asked. Richelle looked down at him, smiling.

"Not at all. Infact," She said, hopping down from the rail, "I'm excited to ask Captain Smith about his retirement." Jacob glanced over his shoulder, then turned back to Richelle.

"You should get back to your awaiting fiance', and I should get back to my sleeping quarters." Jacob turned to leave when Richelle reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"No, please. I... I don't want to go back to my room until I know Cain's went to bed. You saw the way he forced that kiss, just imagine what he'll do with, with..." Jacob started laughing and gestured for her to stop talking.

"Yeah, handcuffs and ropes, I get it."

"It's not funny!"

"You need to face him someday. You are getting married to him, so you are going to be sharing the same bedroom with him for the rest of your life." Jacob said, leaning back against the rail.

"Are you saying I should sleep with him?" Richelle hissed. Jacob raised his hands in self-defense.

"I'm not saying anything. I'm just saying, deal with his wants or chuck him." He smiled, put his hands in his pockets and nodded.

"That's smart," Richelle whispered as she plucked the promise ring off of her finger. She stared at it, a silver ring with a diamond, and clutched it in her palm.

"Though I've thought of it before, I should call of the wedding. Call off everything... but then, Aunt May... she'll be so terribly mad at me, and I won't be able to find a husband at all! Jacob, what do I do?" Richelle pleaded, meeting his gaze.

"Do whatever you feel like. Oh, but you can cut the "Jacob" crap. Only my mom calls me that," He said with a sheepish grin, "Call me Jake, but not Jakey."

"Alright, _Jake_," Richelle said with a small smile. She sighed, slipped the ring back on her finger and bit her lip. "I guess I shouldn't keep you waiting from your sleep. Anyway, I am getting rather cold."

"I can stay out here all I want. Tomorrow I'm off duty, so I can sleep in," He said with a proud grin, "but if you're cold..." He walked a few feet away, bent to retrieve his uniformed coat from a bench, and brought it back to Richelle.

"Don't say anything about this. It'll ruin my reputation," He grinned as he slipped it over Richelle's shoulders.

"What reputation?" Richelle retorted. Jake ignored her and patted her shoulder once.

"If we don't see eachother tomorrow before dinner, give it to me then. You can stay outside, but I really am tired. I woke up at three in the morning today and it's almost twelve. So, see you tomorrow at dinner." He walked away after waving once, leaving Richelle outside.

Now unwanting to stay outside, Richelle headed indoors with Jake's coat on. It still smelt vaguely of him, and she was lost in her mind that she didn't realize the ribbon around her waist get caughting on a nail in the railing and fall into the ocean. Her dress was now loosely hanging onto her body as she walked inside the first class room she shared with Cain.

Cain sat up and looked right at her, his eyes bulging wide.

"What did he do to you?" Cain cried, his eyes ablaze. He pointed to the way Richelle looked, and she ran to a mirror.

Her face was flushed, which could resemble "hickies", her hair was tangled and slightly wet from the ocean spray, she wore no shoes and her dress was half on her body and she also wore his coat.

"It's not how it looks!" She protested.

"Is it?" Cain replied, walking up next to Richelle. He took off Jake's jacket and threw it on the couch, before holding Richelle's hand. "You look dreadfully tired, Dear, get some rest. Perhaps tomorrow night...?"

"Perhaps," Richelle replied as she watched Cain in the mirror.

"I don't want you to socialize with Mr. McCarthy anymore. Only at dinner," She nodded regretfully, not daring to put up a fight, then turned, picked up Jake's jacket gingerly, then hurried off to her bedroom, making sure to lock the door behind her.


End file.
